A brief glimpse at the other side
by Amber Cloud
Summary: Mentalist Fan Fiction-Yep, I guess I'm the first to write something-it's WIP, reviews are appreciated. Patrick Jayne meets a real psychic. Does she know more than she's letting on? Moved and Updated!
1. Chapter 1

AN-Yep. I'm back after a really long absence. I'm stalled on my novel, this is a great break. I'm looking for reviews. Kinda scary that it's the first Mentalist fanfic here.

Thank you CBS-you have the rights, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Chapter 1

The file sat in front of Agent Lisbon, tempting her to call Patrick Jane and ask him for help. It was something that he was not used to, her asking for help, he usually put himself underfoot when she was trying to desperately get him to focus on the case, but share his information.

She had worked with him only a short time; they had mentioned the psychic thing a few times, but never in major detail. It was part of trying to get to know him, after what she had read about him and the "Red John" case, one day he was a well known psychic, the next day he wasn't. He was still a huge puzzle.

This would be the perfect case to annoy him; a psychic with a death threat. She was pretty reputable though, an Irish woman who had a 98 accuracy rate that she never really publicized. Lisbon had heard of her, Jane mentioned her during a rant about how all of it wasn't real. From everything she had read, O'Mara was the real deal.

Her name was Katherine O'Mara. She preferred to be called Kate. She was coming to LA for a conference on psychic phenomenon. Jane had scoffed at the thought of it, calling them a bunch of fakers.

Part of her was dying to put him in a room with a bunch of psychics. They would probably him right out of the room. He wasn't the real deal, but something would just work with this, she felt it. It was in her gut.

This was too tempting. She picked up the phone and dialed. He picked up on the first ring.

Green eyes were reflected in the plane's window. Kate O'Mara yawned and stretched in her seat, untangling her I pod from the mess the 14-hour plane trip had caused. She had slept part of the way, her music collection helping her sleep.

Dublin to LA was never an easy trip and her system couldn't tell you what time it was. She reset her watch. It tended to die when she was working. It would be easier to read the phone she would have soon. Her agent was good about that.

Looking around she tried to stay out of the frenzy that a plane unloading always seemed to cause. Her agent, Liam had been angry about her traveling alone, but she preferred it. It enabled her to just look like Kate O'Mara, psychic, but without an entourage, she was just another Irish traveler. It was one of the rare freedoms she still had. The more press she did, the worse it became. It brought fame and stalkers.

After gathering her bags and heading out of the plane, she hoped to get lost in the crowd. As if by instinct, after clearing customs, she turned around.

Someone was waiting for her. He was tall, had kind looking eyes and a typical surfer face, lined by sun streaked blond hair. Two men were behind him, one asian and one looking like a football player. They screamed cop.

'Damn my agent' she thought to herself as she walked toward the baggage carousel. He followed her, the others staying at a close distance.

Kate stood there for a second. She knew the bags would be there shortly, but wanted her independence for a few minutes more. Walking over to him, she smiled.

"If you're here for my bags" she started

"It would be the green one and not very large," he interrupted, "But I'm not here for your bags. You figured me out pretty fast."

She put out her hand.

"Katherine O'Mara," Kate said, "I suppose my agent sent you. You look like either a cop or a security agent."

He took her hand. She hid the shudder that usually came from shaking someone's hand. Being sensitive to the world was one thing, having the emotions of someone so close hit you like a wrecking ball is another. Being gifted like she was, it was hard to have someone touch you if you weren't ready. His handshake felt bad to her, hard to place and took a few seconds to filter.

"Hardly," he smiled, "I'm Patrick Jane. The California Bureau of Investigation sent me to accompany you to the conference."

Kate smiled. Patrick Jane. A man with two first names, one male and one female. The police sent her a skeptic. Great.

"I don't need any company," the reply was short.

"You do," he replied, "you don't realize that you were followed, do you?"

His reply was somewhere between annoying and condescending. He didn't want to be there as much as she did.

"Followed? Hardly," she replied, grabbing her bag from the carousel, "I checked several times on the plane."

"When you weren't sleeping?" Jane interrupted, taking the bag from her, "Please, Ms OMara, I do believe you're in danger."

"Why?" she asked, taking the bag back from him, "You haven't given me a good enough reason."

She began to walk away from him, toward the doors of the airport that lead out to the terminal. He followed her quickly, taking her elbow to stop her.

"There was one of your stalkers on the plane, your agent sent us the info," Patrick continued, "He wants you to be safe at this conference."

"I am safe," she replied, her green eyes meeting his blue ones, "Please let go."

He let go.

"You can take me there, but I really don't want you hanging around, Mr. Jane," she said, "I don't think the attendees at this conference will want you there either."

"They're just going to have to deal with it," Jane replied, "I'm here to keep an eye on you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AN-Wow, I didn't expect reviews so early. You guys are the best. I'm sorry I didn't get this out to you sooner, I've been very busy with work, the election and now with the holidaze approaching…well, I'll try my best. And if you've seen the credits for next week, well-he meets a real psychic and she's a red head….Fate Sucks!

* * *

An hour later found Jayne, Cho and Rigsby sitting in Santa Monica. Kate had agreed to Jayne driving her to the conference hotel, which sat right on the beach, and she had gone straight to her room. She wanted to clear her head and nap before the opening night cocktail party.

Lisbon had arranged for them to take the room next to her, making sure that they had her schedule. She had also made sure that they were equipped with every possible picture and file of Omara's stalkers.

They ranged from IRA operatives to religious zealots who believed her to be a witch. Some of their comments were laughable, some were scary. According to policy every single one had to be examined, which was a pain. Jane, in his job as consultant didn't have to go through the files, but he was willing to help on this one.

Jane looked up from a file.

"Another witch file," he said, "I'm going for coffee, any of you interested?"

"I'll go for you," Cho stood up, "I saw a Starbucks next door and I need to stretch my legs."

Jane smiled. Cho was more the type to sit and read the net, so he must have needed to get away from the stories. Many of them were hard to deal with.

"As long as it's hot and caffeinated, I'm good," Jane handed him money, "Get something for Rigsby too."

Their co-worker was so deep into reading the files he didn't hear the conversation. Cho had to touch him on the shoulder to get his attention. Rigsby jumped

"Coffee run? Jane's buying," Cho held the twenty up.

"Yes," Rigsby's grin lit up his face, "Black, hot and large."

"There are so many things that can be said to that," Jane laughed, as Cho left, "Rough read?"

"The IRA folks are a bit scarier than usual," he replied, "While I understand their involvement with Miss Kate, I really am having a hard time with the reasons behind their bombings."

"Think if the Civil War hadn't had a victor," Jane replied, picking up another file and reading through it, "The politics and feelings would be similar."

Rigsby stopped and pondered.

"Okay, I get you," he said after a moment, "But to this level?"

"Add in religion," Jayne offered, "Whole lot of emotions there. Regular boiling pot."

Rigsby nodded, letting it sink in. There was a whole lot more going on here than a medium visiting the US. It attracted it's expected group of people, but Jane wasn't acting his usual self. He had grown quiet.

"I know," Rigsby changed the subject, "This conference something you used to do?"

The question brought Jane out of the emotion he saw himself heading into. It was way too familiar to him, a little too close to home. He used to do these conferences, it was only five years since his last one, but time had changed him. Psychics weren't real, they were charlatans looking to fool everyone. While he felt like in his time he had helped people, now this felt hollow. There was a time when he believed in the power, for the mere belief had brought him fame and fortune, even in the early days of his life.

Since the Red John incident, he didn't feel like he belonged in the community anymore. Regret had turned into a deep anger, one that he hated to admit to, but every time someone asked if he had the power, he felt the fury build.

"Yeah, it's a little familiar," he said, a slight smile crossing his face, "Kind of like a really bad high school reunion."

Rigsby grimaced, "I hated mine."

There was a knock on the door.

"I wish he would remember his keys, " Jane said, looking at the desk where Cho had been. His hotel key still sat there.

He opened the door to reveal Agent Lisbon.

"You were expecting someone else?" Lisbon asked, "How far are you guys into the files, we have some new information."

"Cho's getting coffee," Jane replied, "What new info? Do we have to wake Miss O'Mara up?"

"She's sleeping, good," Lisbon continued, "I want to talk to her when she wakes up. Turns out her agent is a wealth of information. Looks like this is a new guy who wants her to "read" him by sending more notes to her agent's office."

"Anything make sense?" Rigsby asked, "I mean if he's wanting to kill her?"

"It's past the point of love notes," she said, pulling a file from her messenger bag, "He's beginning to quote Yeats and other more morbid poets. I have Van Pelt back at the office looking all of them up, but these are the most recent."

Jane took the notes from her and scanned them. He kept reading as Cho knocked on the door.

"I forgot my key," he said, balancing the coffees, "Oh, hello Agent Lisbon."

"This guy is in love with her, that's evident," he began, taking the coffee from Cho, "It's not hard to believe that, considering his choice of words, but something is off."

"I believe that," Lisbon continued, "But in your experience with these types of meetings and situations, have you ever seen something like this?"

Jane shook his head. The notes read like love notes but with a darker feeling behind them. They felt sinister. It was not possible for paper to feel, but to him, the words made him feel unclean.

"No," Jane replied, "Lisbon, I haven't. This guy is very smart or absolutely insane."

"I'm aiming for insane," Cho added, taking a seat to read more files, "We can just expect him Maam or do we still need to check the others?"

"Well," she looked at the piles, "My feeling is that the whole conference should be watched at this point. You guys need to double check the security measures."

Rigsby smiled.

"Already done," he interrupted, "They have coverage for all of their guests, gave me a list of attendees and I've gone through most of them."

Jane looked at his watch.

"I have to go get her up, she's due to meet with the head of the conference," he started, "You want me to tell her about our friendly neighborhood stalker or?"

"Not yet," Lisbon said, "But I would like to meet her as well."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Credit-As Always , CBS who doesn't seem to want to rerun eps or air them online! Dang them!

AN-Thank you to all my humble reviewers. I couldn't do it without all of you. Lion Queen, I think this is the beginning of a long friendship. Witch-I get it more than you know…redheaded witches…hahaha…Enjoy! Reviews Begged for!

* * *

The little girl stared at her as she slept. The child looked seven years old with an angelic face and blond hair to accent her blue eyes. She held onto a teddy bear and was very quietly staring at Kate. Kate opened her eyes, but somehow knew that she wasn't alone. She rolled over to come face to face with the child.

"Hello," the child said calmly, "You're awake."

"Yes, I can't sleep when someone is staring at me," Kate replied, "Where did you come from?"

"I don't know," the child replied, "I can't seem to find my mommy or daddy."

Kate thought for a second. Even though she was groggy from jet lag, it didn't make sense that a child would be lost in her hotel room. Strange things had happened to her in the past, but the child could really be lost.

"Can you tell me where you were with them last?" she asked, sitting up, "Or can your friend there tell me."

Kate pointed to the bear.

"He's a stuffed animal, silly," the child said, sitting on the bed next to her, "I think you're supposed to help me find my parents."

"You think so?" Kate asked, gently reaching a hand out to touch the child's face.

The knock at the door pulled her out of the dream. She was laying on the bed in her room at the Shutters on the Beach, the trendy hotel that the "New Dimensions in Phenomenon" Conference was at. The child had been a dream.

Groggily she got up and walked to the door. When she opened it, the skeptic and a woman were staring back at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry I woke you," Jane said, noticing her rumpled hair, "You've got an hour until the opening party, you asked me to knock?"

It all came back to her, but the exhaustion had made it cloudly.

"Oh, yes, yes," Kate turned and motioned them into the room, "Thank you. I almost

forgot how much I hate these things."

"I'm not a fan of them myself," Jane admitted as Lisbon glared at him, "This is Agent Lisbon of the CBI, who assigned me to you."

Kate smiled at Lisbon, who outstretched her hand. Kate took it, more ready than she was with Jane. Jane moved into the room, settling into a chair next to the window.

"I guess I have you to blame," she laughed, "Pleased to meet you."

"And I you," Lisbon smiled back at her, instantly feeling at ease, "I thought Mr. Jane would be a good fit for you considering that he knows this territory well."

"I am okay with him, you have more news though?" she asked, motioning for them to sit, "Have you heard more from my agent or him?"

"Well," Lisbon started, sitting at the table the suite offered, "Your agent has been very good about sending us everything we could need on this man. You know what he looks like?"

"Most of them, yes," Kate replied, looking at the clock by the bed, "You're going to have to forgive me if I get ready, while we talk, I tend to get loopy from jet lag and not know what time it is. You said an hour Mr. Jane?"

"Yes," Jane pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, "Your agent sent a schedule and they expect you in an hour. According to him it's not a big deal, but an appearance should be made."

Kate smiled and pulled her suitcase onto the bed.

"I'm sorry," Lisbon interrupted, "But as I was saying, you know what he looks like?"

"This is the one I don't know," Kate said, pulling clothing from her suitcase, "I know that he is a he. Nothing feels female with this."

"Feels?" Lisbon was lost.

Kate stopped for a second.

"Sorry, I tend to get a feeling for everyone I meet or am connected with," Kate began, "I have stalkers, I have fans, I have people who believe or don't believe…like your Mr. Jane, but their presences feel like people, male or female."

Lisbon shook her head, she was following.

"Anyway, this one is strange. Liam, my agent, he's always overprotective. I told him that I had received an email from a fan that seemed strange that mentioned this trip," Kate continued, heading into the bathroom to change, "Can you still hear me?"

"Yes," Lisbon replied, as Jane nodded, "I believe he sent that."

"He did," Jane added.

"The feeling I got off of the email wasn't a good one," Kate came out of the bathroom dressed in a green cocktail dress that accented her eyes perfectly, "He's not a good man."

"And you get all this off of an email," Lisbon concluded, "I'm sorry, Ms. O'Mara, but this is hard to take in."

"Welcome to my world," Jane muttered under his breath.

"Just because you're skeptical doesn't mean you have to be mean," Kate said as Lisbon turned and glared at him, "I thought you of all people would at least understand."

"I do understand," Jane said, glaring right back at Lisbon, "I just prefer to call it a hunch that psychic intuition."

"Fair enough," Kate replied, pulling a pair of heels from her case.

She put them on and looked at Jane.

"Can I ask you to be my escort, Mr. Jane, or are you too skeptical for a crowd of psychics?" she asked, looking him in the eye.

Jane's look at Lisbon said chapters. He knew she put him here because of who he knew, but this was torture. He would have to shake it off though. He had to keep himself impartial and hide his anger.

"But of course," Patrick replied, "Once I get my jacket, will I be acceptable?"

Kate laughed. He would look better in his jacket. He left to go get it.

"Yes," she smiled, "You would."

Lisbon stood up and followed him out. He didn't say anything to her, but the look in his eyes made her realize that she might have made a huge mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

Brief Glimpse of the Other Side

Chapter 4

Authors Note-Well, I survived the episode I dreaded. And I liked it too. While I was already getting to his anger over the folks in the biz side of this I did do a few things. Tpel-thanks to you I have now rewatched the first ep a few times (I haven't downloaded so it was great to watch with kanji subtitles!) and fixed the things you mentioned. Masquerade Witch-This is a long chapter, just for you. The short ones were both filler and a mental holiday. Lion Queen-You are the bestest.

Note, I did incorporate Christina Frye in here. My thought is he felt she manipulated him at the end of the ep but he was so worn down he couldn't fight her off. Kate is not Christina. You'll see as this advances. Reviews as always, begged for.

* * *

At most conferences of any sort, the festivities tend to start the night before with a cocktail party or some sort of dinner. Knowing this, Agent Lisbon had her agents in the party, acting as attendees, striking up conversations with the guests and getting to know the scene. In undercover work, this was a perfect plan, in Patrick Jane's case; he was simply Kate O'Mara's date for the evening, a plan that caused both amusement and trepidation. His original decision to assist the CBI didn't include this kind of work, but when Lisbon told him the situation, he wanted the chance to make up for the Frye situation.

Kate watched the agents in the room and watched Jane's interaction with the guests at the convention. While she did find Patrick fascinating, he was also an aloof puzzle. From the moment she shook his hand, all of her instincts were screaming that he was a wounded soul in desperate need of help. It bothered her that he kept pushing it away. He was also horribly uncomfortable in this atmosphere. He was a skeptic; she got that instantly from his demeanor when she spoke with Agent Lisbon. He did everything but scoff at her. His disbelief to her was a shield.

The fact that he joined her at the party was surprising. He could have very easily handed the job over to the other two agents that he had introduced her to, but his attitude seemed more like he was going to the guillotine than a party that he was working. Something was deeply wrong with him.

Agent Lisbon had noticed it as well. While she admired the gusto that Jane had thrown into this assignment, she was worried about quiet he had become. From what she knew, it had been five years since he had left this world. The conference director had been a little quiet when she mentioned she was with the CBI and would have agents in the party to protect O'Mara, but was a little more animated when she mentioned the names. Patrick Jane had quite a reputation in these circles. They were not a group willing to forget, but somehow he was forgiven. All the times she had to deal with 'isn't he the psychic?' were magnified in that one conversation. The convention personnel had to deal with 'isn't he the liar'?

Patrick Jane knew that feeling the moment he entered the party with Kate. While the green dress set off her eyes beautifully and the excitement people had over meeting her were electric, some faces that he recognized were not so happy to see him. He didn't need any form of gift to notice it, but he was working and he felt the usual humor that he used to counter people kicking in. There was apathy toward him though. It was okay. He didn't believe any of the folks in the room, but since he was in a working capacity and not on his own, he was quiet and observant. He didn't need another Christina Frye to come along and cold read him. He wouldn't let himself get that vulnerable again.

He watched Kate meeting fans and fellow psychics, her charm filling the room with a small bit of joy. She moved from person to person, a genuine smile on her face, the exhaustion that had plagued her earlier nowhere to be seen. He sank into the background, close enough to listen to the conversations, but far enough to give the conversations an air of privacy.

Lisbon had told him when she asked about the assignment that while it was something that the CBI wasn't charged to do, this was a favor to the Attorney General. The mere thought that a psychic would get killed while in their fair state was something that they wanted to prevent, rather than investigate. Jane hadn't balked at the idea, but rather found the idea challenging.

Agent Lisbon had entered the room a few minutes earlier, much changed from her CBI wear into a more appropriate dress for the party. Cho and Rigsby were in the room as well, merged in as attendees, and actually doing a good job at not being that well noticed. Jane knew that people were now paying attention to O'Mara and not him so that at least he had a few minutes to breathe.

He couldn't help but notice when Van Pelt entered the room, trying her best to fit in with the other attendees. Since she believed in the power these people claimed to possess, she fit in more than she knew, but she did dress the part and it warmed Jane to notice that Grigsby was thrilled to see her. He knew that they were an item, but Grigsby had kept it so under cover that it was impossible to those who didn't watch closely.

He had liked the life when he was starting out. The people who backed him, believed in him were great, but over time it was harder and harder to keep them involved. He was a near expert in what to tell them, because the game here was to tell them what they wanted to hear. Sometimes that worked for him, sometimes it didn't. Since giving it up, it was easier to read people. The room was happy to see her. Those who recognized him didn't care.

"You want a drink while you wait?" Lisbon asked, coming up to join him.

"No, thank you," he said, turning toward her, "Nice dress."

"Thank you," she replied, "You okay? I know this a lot for you."

"There is so much history in this room, Agent Lisbon, you wouldn't even begin to fathom it," Jane replied, "I understand why you wanted me involved. Our guy is not here."

"How can both of you be so certain of it?" Lisbon asked, "I know you don't believe, but this is a room full of believers."

"Or well paid liars. They believe what they want to believe," Jane replied, "I've changed my mind, you want a drink?"

"Soft drink, I'm working," Lisbon's responded with a smile, "You really don't want to talk about this do you?"

Jane sighed an audible, "No."

As he turned from her, he looked back at Kate who was deep in conversation. The people around her he recognized so he went to the bar got a soft drink for Lisbon and a beer for himself. Returning to Lisbon, he handed her the drink.

"I hope that a beer is okay tonight," he said, drinking the beer, "I know we must try to look like we fit in."

"You look like a fish out of water," Lisbon said, "You have got to relax."

Jane smiled.

"I'm relaxed," he started, "As for the fish out of water, I said publically that most of these people were charlatans and liars, so, I don't know what to expect. They do love her though. I didn't know that this was her second time in the states."

"I didn't know," Lisbon, replied, "I'm sorry I put you into this mess. I do believe it's the first time I've seen you this uncomfortable."

"It's no mess, I had to face it eventually," Jane continued, "You just didn't know. I said yes. Consider it my redemption for earlier cases, Agent Lisbon."

Kate looked over to Jane and smiled. He lifted the beer in salute and she gently motioned to him. He walked over to her.

"Can you grab me one of those?" she asked, "I can't seem to get away from all of these people."

"Certainly," Jane replied, "any preference?"

"Guinness, please," she said softly, "I trust you getting it. The others here bother me."

"Really?" Jane inquired, his tone edging on mocking, "You have a feeling?"

Kate glared at him.

"Quit being skeptical," she said, "It makes you ugly. You know full well some of us do have gifts."

"Uh huh," Jane replied, shaking his head, "It's the payment for those gifts that bothers me the most. I'll tell you about gifts when I get back with your beer."

Jane turned and walked back to the bar, passing Lisbon quickly. Lisbon didn't follow, she recognized the look. He wasn't angry, but he was going to set Kate straight. When he walked past her again, he was calm, more reserved and from what Teresa could tell, a little angry. Kate's crowd had died down and she looked up to him as he approached.

"Thank you," she said, taking the dark bottle of Irish beer from him, "You are very kind to do this for me."

"Doing this is not a problem, being 'here' is a problem," Jane began, "There's a history in this room that I can't even begin to bring up."

"You want me to tell it to you?" Kate offered, sipping the beer and looking him in the eyes, "I've heard tell that I'm pretty good at that."

"Yeah, right," Jane smiled slightly, "You don't want to tell me my life story, Ms. O'Mara, too many chapters and too weird for a miniseries."

Kate laughed.

"I know all about weird lives, Mr. Jane," she said, "You want to tell me about yours?"

"I'm surprised this room hasn't told you," he surmised, looking around, "They didn't tell you about me, did they?"

"What do you mean? I know that you're Patrick Jane of the CBI, " Kate inquired, "Do we need to continue this someplace a little more private?"

"Yes, I think we do," Jane said, talking her elbow and heading for the balcony, "I don't need to have this all over the room."

Kate nodded and they walked outside to a beautiful night. The moon hung over the Pacific, with a light breeze blowing and the sound of the waves was gentle.

"How am I supposed to know of you Mr. Jane?" Kate continued, "I know you're not comfortable here, you have done wonders in trying to hide it, but what is causing it?"

"You've never heard of Patrick Jane?" Patrick Jane asked, "In this community of all communities, that name doesn't ring a bell? My life story didn't 'cross the pond' as the English are so fond of saying?"

Kate sipped on her beer. Patrick Jane was one thing to her, arrogant.

"No," she replied, "I'm sorry, it doesn't."

"Five years ago I called most of the people in that room liars because of what they did," Jane began, "I was one of you. I had a career in this."

Kate took a moment to let what he said sink in.

"You were one of us," Kate said, "So, why did you leave? The police offered you a better job?"

"They were my only job," Jane replied, "Which makes this assignment difficult. I'm crossing two worlds here, Kate. Sorry if my skepticism doesn't appeal to you."

"Skepticism is good in our line of work," Kate interrupted, "It keeps us honest."

"For me, skepticism is the only honesty," Jane admitted, "There is no possible way for you to do what you do. You can look at a person, see the grief of them losing a loved one and know instantly that's why. You can look at what they are wearing, carrying or even mentioning and know who they were and use it to your advantage. How much do you charge for readings?"

"$300's my going rate," Kate responded, "I'll read you for free."

"No need, I don't want to be read," Jane continued, "I already know what I need to know, but thank you. Let me tell you about yourself, shall I?"

"Oh, this should be good," Kate said, "Go."

"You come from a distant land, you haven't slept well in years," Jane began, "This gift rules your life, you hate it and wish you had done something else, like fashion design."

His tone had turned mocking.

"You see, I can cold read better than most," he stopped and finished off his beer, "Thank you for offering to read me though."

"You're welcome," she finished her beer, "I wish I could help you."

"You are," Patrick admitted.

"How?" she started, "All you have done is be skeptical toward me, downright mean in most cases and arrogant."

"You're listening," Jane replied softly, turning away from her to look out at the moon, "I'm here to protect you from the folks inside and you've listened to me. I know that you're scared, you would have blown me off at the airport if you weren't."

Kate nodded. He was right by that. She was scared that this kook who threatened to kill her like the devil she was might just do it. It was good that he understood the group inside, but his anger had to be dealt with.

"You also don't know how to work with all the attention inside," Jane continued, "It's overwhelming that suddenly all these people know your name and want to know what you do. They want you to read them for free, something I never did, and they want to walk away from you happy," Jane continued, "You in turn find yourself telling them exactly what they want to hear. It's not a gift, Kate, it's an ability to see the world in an entirely different light."

"That's how you see it," Kate interrupted, "You've assumed a lot with me, Mr. Jane."

"For god's sake, call me Patrick," he said softly, looking back at her, "I think you've earned that right."

"It's not about what's right, Patrick," Kate continued, "You don't see the gifts the way I do. You turned away from your talent, right?"

"Lying isn't a talent," Patrick injected.

"No, you were helping people, by your own admission," she joined him in looking at the moon, "You haven't said why you left this life."

Jane took a moment. It was always hard to mention why without his mind playing the cruel flashback of walking into his house and finding the gift that Red John had left him. It hurt every single time and it was still hard for him to talk about it.

"I was doing consultant work for the CBI, trying to find a serial killer named Red John," he began, steadying his voice, "I was a little more arrogant and confident than I am now"

He smiled as she did, she got the joke.

"I was getting pretty close, to the point where the media was interviewing me regularly to see if I had found him or had any ideas. I had done a show in town and came home," he continued, "My wife didn't answer when I called out to her, like she usually did. She hadn't picked up the phone so I was worried. I walked down the hallway to our room and found a message from Red John."

Kate gasped. She started to put a hand on his and realized that he was gripping the railing for dear life. Instead she put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me the rest," she said, "Patrick, I'm so sorry."

Jane took a deep breath. He found some control and let himself settle back into the reality of where he was.

"Thank you," he said, turning back to her, "That's why I left this life. I saw what helping people brought me. It's easier for me to work with the police when the subjects are already dead."

"Explains a lot," she said, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"Sharing that with me," she said, her eyes meeting his, "and keeping me from being scared here."

"You're welcome," he replied, putting his elbow out to escort her back inside, "We better get you inside. They're bound to be missing you."

"Probably," Kate sighed, "You going to be alright in there?"

"If I can still be skeptical, sure," Jane started for the doors, "If not, it might get ugly."

Kate smacked him on the arm. He laughed, the first genuine laugh she heard from him.


End file.
